five times emma was ruthless and one time she wasn't
by Timballisto
Summary: Emma is not necessarily a good person. Sometimes the ends justify the means. And sometimes Emma just doesn't have the patience for all this fairy tale shit. M for violence and language. Pre-slash and Implied Swan Queen.
1. Chapter 1

Emma can't understand how she got here. She can't understand how she is sprinting, Regina only a step behind her, through the thick jungles of Neverland on the trail of the anti-magic Nazi who stole her- _their-_ son.

But she does understand chasing down a perp, and she recognizes the sounds of stumbling coming from ahead. Something dark unfurls in Emma's gut- some cruel pleasure at the rasp of Tamara's flagging breath and shaking limbs. She feels powerful and predatory in a way that makes the marks she'd taken down in Boston feel like cheap thrills. If this is what revenge tastes like, no wonder Regina had gone after Snow. The rage that pulses in her head and heart tastes like blood in the back of her throat and smells like rust; it urges her faster.

They break out of the dark jungle into a meadow, and Emma narrows her eyes at Tamara's running form. She stops, and unholsters her pistol. She would enjoy this-

Regina moves before Emma can squeeze off a shot. A fireball about the size of a baseball flares to like in Regina's hand and rockets across the clearing to hit Tamara right in the shoulder, spinning her around like a marionette before tripping to the ground. Her shriek of pain and the smell of charred flesh make Emma's wrinkle her nose in disgust.

"Fire, really?" She asked. "You couldn't have just, I don't know, tied her up or something?"

"It was the first spell that came to mind." Regina smirked. "And I couldn't exactly let you shoot her, Sherriff. Not before we have a little chat about Henry."

Emma's throat tightens with worry. The chase had made her forget her fear, but now she almost chokes with it. Henry has been all alone on this island- on an island of fucking _cannibal children _and a Peter Pan who regularly enjoyed blood sacrifices. What if she was too late? What if Henry _died_ because of her pointless need to be the stupid Saviour and- and-

"Focus." Regina says, her voice low and intense. She cuts through Emma's panicked thoughts and locks her dark eyes with Emma's blue. Emma nods, and takes a shaky breath.

Right. Keep it together Swan.

They lope across the meadow together, united in purpose. Tamara is still on the ground, about ten feet from the tree line. She's unconscious, from either the pain of the oozing burn on her shoulder (There's a hole in Tamara's leather jacket and Emma thanks she can see the bone of her shoulder) or from falling and hitting her head on the ground.

"Can you wake her up?" Emma asks gruffly.

Regina nods, and snaps her fingers. A purple spark jumps from her fingers to Tamara's prone form, and the unconscious woman jerked like she was being tasered. Her eyes shot open; and Emma made sure the first thing she saw was the black barrel of her gun.

"Rise and shine." Emma said. "I'd say 'Sleeping Beauty', but I've actually met Aurora and she'd kick my ass for comparing you two. Or, Mulan would, anyway."

Tamara's disdain was palpable. "I'm not telling you anything."

"Really?" Regina practically purred. "I'm pretty sure I can find some ways to… persuade you." Magic crackled around her fists, amplified by the magical nature of the island. Even Emma (who may have been born of True Love but was about as magically sensitive as a brick) could admit that her usually dormant power practically pushed against her skin on the island.

"You're the 'good guys' right?" Tamara snorted. Her smug little grin was making Emma's trigger finger itch. "I'm sure your precious little boy Henry would be so disappointed in his two mommies if you were to-"

"Shut the fuck up!" Emma practically roared. Something inside Emma snapped. She had been stuck on a pirate ship with her absentee parents, a perverted pirate, the man who was ultimately responsible for everyone's shitty lives, and her sons step-mom, all the while fearing for her sons life in the hands of anti-magic fanatics with personal agenda's against Regina.

And now, this bitch thought she would get away with it?

The gun jumped in her hand, and Emma smiled grimly as Tamara howled and clutched at the ruined, bloody mess of her knee. "I don't think you understand. I don't give two shits about being a good guy. I don't think the motherfucking Evil Queen does either. You _will _tell us where to find Henry, or I'll put a bullet in your other knee. If I have to, I will put holes in you until you pass out from blood loss and then I'll let Regina heal you so I can do it again." Emma crouched, looming over Tamara's sweaty face. She dug the muzzle of the gun into the soft underside of Tamara's throat. "Do_. _Not. Fuck. With. Me."

"Y-you won't kill me." Tamara stammered. Her face was ashen with pain.

"Maybe." Emma conceded. "But I'm also a mother trying to protect her son. People have killed for a lot less."

Tamara's eyes flickered to Regina, and she flinched at the look of dark satisfaction on the former Queen's face.

"Choose wisely." Regina said.

"H-Hangman's Tree." Tamara blurted. "He's in Hangman's Tree. Pan wanted him alive, so he kept him away from the other Lost Boys in case they got any… ideas."

Emma almost sagged visibly in relief. Henry was alive. He was still breathing. He was not dead.

"Come on, let's go." Emma said. "You can do a location spell, right?"

"Now that I have a name, yes."

"Let's go."

Both women stepped around Tamara. Emma stopped when she felt a tugging on the cuff of her jeans.

"You can't leave me here!" Tamara said.

Emma and Regina exchanged a look. "Yeah, I think we can." Emma shrugged.

"But- the Lost Boys-"

"-probably heard the gun shot and are coming for you?" Regina's eyes were cold and completely devoid of mercy. "I imagine you better start running." She eyed Tamara's shattered kneecap. "Or not."

She turned on her heel and strode into the jungle, already muttering the incantation to a location spell. Emma stayed and stared at Tamara for a long moment. She was conflicted; this woman took Henry, _kidnapped _Henry, and had given him over cult of cannibals to save her own ass. But did she deserve to die?

"Are you coming, Ms. Swan?"

Emma tore her eyes away from Tamara, and followed Regina into the dark jungle. "Yeah, I'm coming."

They both ignored the distant screaming that started a few minutes later.


	2. Chapter 2

The sun bagan to set over Neverland. It's been hours since they left Tamara behind and forged ahead, following the pulsing glow of Regina's location spell. The dark made the shadows of the trees even more menacing, and Emma felt that creeping in between her shoulder blades that means someone's watching them. Added with the oppressive, steamy heat that stuck Emma's breath in her throat and coated her entire body with sweat, she felt like she was slowly being suffocated by the island itself.

"Hey, Regina-"

"I feel it too." Regina said, her voice clipped and short. She didn't look up from her spell, intently staring at the little glowing arrow that was (hopefully) pointing towards Henry. "I imagine Pan rules more than just the Lost Ones. It truly wouldn't surprise me if everything on this island was a slave to his whims."

"I thought they were called the Lost Boys." Emma said. "And I thought Peter Pan just didn't want to grow up."

Regina's answering laugh was almost hysterical. "Dear, haven't you learned by now that Disney doesn't get anything right?" Regina swatted at a hanging creeper before it could brush against her face. "Peter Pan is a demon who devours the innocence of children, slowly consuming their souls until they are little more than mindless husks who crave human flesh. It doesn't really matter what you call them as long as you remember that." In the waning light, the sweat on the Evil Queen's face looked disturbingly like tear tracks.

"Uh… okay." Emma said awkwardly, blinking. Wow. Her favorite Disney character was really from a Stephen King novel. Alright, she could deal with that.

Maybe.

Regina's shoulders were tight with stress and the lines on her forehead were deep with worry. The fear in Emma's stomach tripled; if the Evil Queen was this worried, Pan was far worse than anything Emma could imagine. "This Pan guy is that bad, huh?" Emma said weakly. Her voice cracked.

"Yes, Ms. Swan." Regina said, quietly. "I don't know why Henry was taken- usually Pan does his own dirty work- but we've spent too much time on that damn boat. Henry could be- Pan could've-" She cut herself off.

"No." Emma grabbed Regina's arm, and dragged her around until they were face to face. "Hey, stop thinking like that, alright?"

"How can I not, Ms. Swan?" Regina spit. Her eyes flickered purple with rage and magic. "We are _weeks_ too late. How could Henry possibly be alive?"

Honestly, Emma wanted to shake this woman until her teeth rattled. "Because he's your son, you idiot!"

Regina looked poleaxed. "W-what?"

"You think the boy raised by the _Evil Queen_ will give a flying shit about Peter Pan?" Emma snorted. "This Pan guy will probably try to steal Henry's soul and then get sassed for his trouble. You're doing him a disservice by thinking he'd be anything but strong. You raised him better than that." Emma gave Regina a shaky smile. "If Henry got anything from me, it's his maddening ability to annoy the crap out of people. Pan'll probably be begging us to take him."

"I doubt that, dear." Regina managed, looking like someone had punched her in the stomach. Her eyes were incredulous and, to Emma's amusement, her mouth was slightly open.

"Come on, let's go. Before you let in flies."

Emma had to fight her grin when she heard Regina's teeth click shut behind her. And pretended she didn't hear Regina's mumbled 'thank you Ms. Swan' behind her.

Her good mood didn't last too long, however. Night had totally blanketed the island, leaving them in the pitch dark. The full moon overhead was obscured by the leaves of the trees, so all Emma and Regina had to guide them was the pathetic glow of Regina's spell. Somehow, Emma could tell they were getting close. Her magic was constantly buzzing beneath her skin, like pins and needles sweeping from her toes to the back of her neck. Every hair on her body stood up, electrified by the power seething beneath her skin.

Regina spoke what Emma already knew. "We're here."

The tree was nothing like the charming little hideout from the cartoon. The tree looked like bleached bone, the dead bark pitted and scarred by long claw marks. Dark patches were spattered along the base of the trunk, and Emma had the creeping suspicion that it was spatters of blood. Designs, painted with the same ominous substance, crawled the wood. Handprints, skulls, and and caricatures of dying stick figures; all in a childish scrawl that made Emma's skin crawl to just look at. Her eyes traveled upwards, and this time she couldn't help the vomit that forced itself up from her stomach. She turned and retched into the ferns, trying desperately to unsee the small figures hanging from the branches, swaying gently in the slight breeze. The smallest of the corpses couldn't have been more than 6, and the oldest no more than Henry's age.

The idea of Henry, dangling from that tree to rot- Emma retched again.

"Come, Ms. Swan." Regina's voice is surprisingly gentle, considering. But there is steel in her tone, and Emma allowed herself to be blindly forward.

Regina lets Emma go about a foot away from the tree and knocks experimentally on the wood. She smirks at the hollow sound.

"How d'you get in?" Emma asked, studiously avoiding looking anywhere but Regina.

"Careful application of force." Regina replied. She points her finger, and from it a flame sparks. At first, it's weak and the only use Emma can think of for it would be to light a cigarette if she was too lazy to find a lighter. But with a flourish of her fingers, the flame turned bright blue, and hissed like a welding torch.

"Holy shit." Emma whispered. She's suddenly very glad that she never actually was a danger to Henry, and that Regina respected his wishes in regard to his birth mother. Emma had a sneaking suspicion that if she had ever truly been a threat to her son, Regina Mills would have taken her apart and left her body to rot in the woods.

Regina's flame makes quick work of the old dry wood, burning it thin enough for Emma to kick it in, showering whoever was inside the hideout with charred wood and sawdust.

"Hello?" Emma whispered into the dark hole in the tree. "Henry? Are you there?"

Silence.

Emma and Regina share looks; if he is not here, they had nothing. No leads. No back-up. No more sources of information.

"He has to be here." Emma said, mostly to herself. "He _has _to."

"I will light the way." Regina said. A soft glow emanated from her hand, lighting up her face from underneath. The lines and bags beneath her eyes from sleepless nights tossing and turning from worry are echoed in the blondes own face; they were both very, very tired of missing their son.

"I'll back you up." Emma said quietly.

Regina nods (and Emma is touched that Regina trusts her not to betray her (again)) and vanishes inside of the hollow tree, with Emma following after.

It's dark, obviously. The air feels dead, just like the tree that surrounds them. Emma walks down a few rough steps lit by Regina's spell, and ducks her head low. This hideout was rested for children, not adults, so Emma is forced to hunch over slightly to avoid bashing her head on the roots that form the ceiling. Regina, short as she is without her 6 inch heels, doesn't even notice.

"Ugh, this place is disgusting." Emma muttered. The packed earth floor is covered with discarded, rotting fruit covered in flies, rags piled up in corners, and jungle trash. Out of the corner of her eye, Emma can see the beady red eyes of rats chittering in a corner.

"We seem to have cut right into the main room of the… den." Regina said. She gestured to a passageway across the room. "I imagine there will be more rooms that way."

"Lead the way, Your Majesty." Emma says cheekily.

"Call me that again and I'll leave you here." Regina retorted.

The passageway reminded Emma of a burrow. Dirt was on all sides, crumbling into her eyes and nose. She sneezed, and her head hit a protruding root. "Ow, fuck!"

"Keep it down!" Regina said, her voice hissing in the darkness.

"…Mom?"

Emma's heart stops.

"Mom? Is that you?" Henry's voice hits her right in the gut and she feels her body physically deflate.

"Henry!" Regina calls, and she rushes forward with Emma close behind and there he is.

He was filthy, with a mop greasy dirty hair that falls in his eyes in crusty waves. His clothing was ratty and covered in a healthy layer of dirt; beneath the grime, Emma can make out the logo of his t-shirt and realizes that he's been stuck in the same set of clothes for the past three months. He had bug bites on his exposed arms and legs and Emma winced when she recognized the signs of lice and fleas. He was painfully thin, and his collarbone juts out a heartrending distance, but the bright, teary grin that stretches across his face is all Henry, and Emma can't hold in the sob that lurches out of her chest. She wrapped both Regina and Henry in a bear hug, and it's telling that Regina didn't even snap at her.

"Mom, Emma… can I go home now?" Henry sniffled, his cheeks wet with tears.

"Yeah, kid." Emma laughed wetly. "Whatever you want."

"Um…" Henry tugged at the rough rope that kept him tied to the wall. "D'you think you could untie me first?"

"Of course." Regina said, quickly wiping her tears away before vanishing the ropes away in a puff of purple smoke.

Henry frowned at the sight of magic at his mother's fingertips, but Emma cut him off before he could say anything. "We needed magic to find you." she told him. "If we have to break a few promises to find you, we won't be sorry, alright?" He hesitated for a few seconds, before nodding. Henry was too happy about being found to really care about _how_ he'd been found; principals couldn't really hold up to three months in a virtual hell.

"Let's get out of here."

* * *

They were twenty minutes from the tree when a long, inhuman shriek split the air.

"What the hell was that!?" Emma jumped, staring back the way they came.

"It's Peter." Henry whispered, shrinking against Regina. He looked terrified, his lips quivering with fear. He looked, for the first time, his age. Small, frightened, and terrified of the dark.

The howl continued, long beyond when a normal human would've stopped for air. The yelling of countless other voices joined the solitary sound, until the very jungle seemed to shake with the noise.

"We need to go. Now." Regina said, grabbing Henry by the wrist and dragging him behind her as she broke into a run.

"Mom, you're hurting me!" Henry yelled, stopping Regina in her tracks. She looked guiltily down at his rope-burned wrist and her tight grip.

"Henry, I'm so sorry-"

"We don't have time for this!" Emma growled. She scooped Henry up, settling him on her back. "Let's go!"

They ran, hard and fast back the way they'd come. Regina led the way, guiding them back to the Roger as fast as she could run. Far behind them, Emma could hear the sound of snapping branches and wild yells. It wasn't them she was worried about- it was the insane giggling that seemed to echo through the woods. Henry whimpered on her back, burying his face in her jacket and shuddering at each laugh.

Fuck. Of course Pan could fly. He couldn't be a nice, rambunctious kid who never wanted to grow up, but he could fly.

"Regina!" Emma yelled. "Take him and run!"

"No! Emma-!" Henry's arms tightened around her throat, and Emma had to pry him off of her to thrust into Regina's arms. "Get him to the ship as fast as you can. I'll hold Pan off."

"That's suicide!" Regina snapped, struggling to hold a crying Henry back. "Pan is centuries old, and has powers that you've never dealt with. If anyone should stay, it's me. I at least have a fighting chance."

"Will you shut up with the goddamn martyr shtick?" Emma said. "Seriously, this determination to sacrifice yourself is pissing me off. You can teleport to the boat as soon as you get out of this damn jungle. He has more of a chance with you, got it? Now get the hell out of her before I get really angry."

"Ms. Swan… Emma…" Regina whispered. Emma met Regina's eyes for a long moment. The darker woman's face was indescrutible. "I will return for you, Ms. Swan." she said, gripping Emma's hand with bruising force. "Try not to die in the meantime." Regina's gaze was magnetic, and Emma was reminded somewhat nostalgically of their pre-Curse days, when all they were were two women fighting for their sons affections interspersed with really intense UST.

Before magic fucked everything up.

"Don't worry, I'll catch up to you soon." Emma lied, mostly for Henry's benefit. Then, after ruffling Henry's hair, she turned back towards the way they'd came and walked resolutely into the dark.

* * *

Maybe this wasn't the best idea Emma had ever had. She usually wasn't one for horror movies or haunted corn mazes, but she felt like this jungle could star in either. Especially since she knew that a crazy-ass immortal demon was flying around in the trees like a bat from hell.

"Oooh." Pan's disembodied voice cackled. "Looks like they left you all alone!"

Emma unholstered her gun, flicked off the safety, and fired three shots into the leafy canopy above all in one smooth movement.

"Missed me!" He squealed.

"Then come on out and show your face- so I can put a fucking bullet in it!" Emma shouted.

"But hide and seek is my favorite game." Pan whined, and his voice sounded like dying, decaying wet things that crawled in the dark. "And nobody wants to play with me."

_Nobody want's to play with you because you because you're an insanely creepy, sociopathic little fucker_, Emma thought. She cleared her throat, and said instead "I thought you had lots of friends to play with."

"Those aren't _friends._" Pan said scornfully, sounding unsettlingly like Henry when he'd been annoyed by Emma's perpetual disbelief in his fairy tales. "They aren't good for anything."

"Then why keep them around?" Stall him. Give Regina and Henry as much time as possible. Cold sweat crawled down Emma's spine.

"They don't make good friends, but they make good toys." Pan paused for a moment. "Henry is my friend."

"Like hell he is." Emma snarled. She noticed a pale face in the corner of her eyes and fires five rounds into the shadowy figure attached to it. Blood spattered the tree trunk, but Pan didn't fall or falter.

"In fact, we're very _close _friends." Pan continued, as if he hadn't been shot five times in the chest. He leaned forward into the light and Emma almost dropped her gun.

Pan looked so startlingly _young._

His skin was pale- almost pale enough to be translucent. Especially in contrast to the black blood that soaked his green tunic and spattered his face. His hair was fire engine red, unearthly bright in comparison to the darkness inherent in the rest of him. All together, he wasn't a very imposing figure; small and slight as compared to the huge mythic demon she'd built him up to be. Until she saw his eyes.

Or, rather, lack of eyes.

Two gaping holes stood where a child's eyes were supposed to rest, black and empty. It made Emma want to throw up all over again.

"Did I frighten you?" Pan asked, almost sweetly. His long, thin mouth twisted into a smile. Emma got a glimpse of a long, black tongue and sharp, bloody teeth.

Instead of answering, Emma started to fire again. _Forehead. Throat. Chest._

Pan frowned as the bullets gouged into his body. He looked as if he were merely inconvenienced instead of incapacitated. "Stop that." he said crossly. He waved his hand and the trees around Emma leapt to life. A thick branch slammed into the back of her knees, sending her to the ground with a grunt of surprise and pain. Another smaller, more whiplike branch caught her across the back, knocking her to her hands and knees and cutting through her shirt to her skin. Her pistol skittered out of her hand, and before she could lung for it, jungle vines wrapped like snakes around her wrists and pulled taut.

"There." Pan smiled at her, his grin stretching from ear to ear. "That's much better."

Emma wanted to scream, and struggle, and cry but she didn't because she needed Pan to keep talking, to keep playing with her; anything to give Regina and Henry more time. The vines crept up her thigh, winding tighter and tighter as they curled around her body. Emma could feel the air slowly being forced from her lungs as a thick, green creeper constricted around her ribs.

"Why Henry?" Emma gasped.

"A child touched by true love would be a very fun toy." Pan said, as if that was explanation enough. He reclined in mid-air, smiling slyly at Emma. He'd seemed to have forgotten all about his plans to pursue Henry- which was great because that meant Emma's plan was working, but also made her suspicious because he plans had never worked before.

"My son is not a toy." she said instead.

Peter Pan looked at her as if she was stupid. The vines tightened a little more, almost reflexively, and Emma groaned in unison with her battered ribs. "_Obviously." _he snorted. "I really wanted you, anyway."

Emma blinked.

"There's a lot a boy can do with True Love."

_Oh. Shit._

Peter's grin stretched. It went from ear to ear; an inky black pit that was too wide and too deep to be natural. The dark leeched like black rot from his mouth over his pale lips and into his nose. From there is spread under his skin like sickness, filling every vein with until his pale skin looked like veined marble. His empty sockets bled black over his round cheeks and dripped off his face onto his clothing. Thin, slick strings of the corruption that filled Pan like a parasite morphed into thick ropes- tentacles- that looked more appropriate on an eldritch abomination.

"Get the _fuck_ away from me!" Emma screamed. She was really struggling now; she'd been prepared to sacrifice herself for her son, to _die _for her son but not like this. Not killed by some- some- some _thing_ that giggle with a child's voice while it asked her to-

"Open wide!" Pan cackled, his entire face a black oozing shadow. His tentacles wound around Emma's throat and face. She whimpered. It was like being touched by death. She exhaled sharply through her nose and fought to turn her head, keeping her mouth clamped tightly shut.

"Aw, don't be like that." Pan chided, almost playfully as his appendages exerted an iron grip on Emma's face that made her teeth ache. She could only watch with horror as the black tide rode over her nose, cutting off her oxygen. It was only a matter of time now, until she couldn't hold her breath any longer and-

Emma gasped in air, and nearly choked as Pan forced his tentacle down her throat. "Give it to me! It's mine!" he screamed. Emma couldn't breath; she felt like her throat was being torn in two by the force of Pan's assault. She could feel him scrabbling around inside her, scraping against her organs and shoving them aside in his search for her birthright. "Where is it!" Pan's screeches were beginning to sound fuzzy, like she was fading.

"Right here, dear." Emma twitched at the semi-familiar sound, her wild eyes rolling in their sockets. She could barely make out someone's outline before a blast of magical energy sent Pan flying, ripping him right out her and across the clearing. The vines fell limp, and Emma promptly fell over onto her side without them to hold her up.

"Are you alright?" the voice asked, hovering.

"R'gina?" Emma mumbled, her forehead confused. She coughed, and a spurt of bright crimson blood soaked the jungle floor. Oh, right. Internal bleeding.

"You are just as much of a noble idiot as your parents, Miss Swan." Regina hissed, his eyes bright with fear at the sight of so much blood. "What was I supposed to tell Henry, you absolute moron?"

"Go'ddamit R'gina." Emma muttered, her lips sticky with the blood that continued to leak from the corner of her mouth. "Just f'ckin' kill him already."

"Fine." Regina said primly, straightening from her protective crouch over the blonde. Fire sparked from her hands, leaping to Peter's tentacles. Whatever they were made of, they were extremely flammable, because they went up with a crackle and a hiss that had Peter howling in pain.

"You can't kill me!" Peter screeched. He threw himself at Regina, and only the timely raising of a magical barrier kept Regina from being tackled to the forest floor. Instead, Peter smashed against it, leaving black smears like a bug on a window shield.

It would have been funny if it wasn't so damn terrifying.

Regina threw another fireball, following it up with a whispered incantation that sparked like lightning in the air. Peter didn't even bother dodging; instead he turned incorporeal and allowed the magic to pass through him. Behind, the two spells struck a tree which simultaneously lit on fire, and then exploded, sending wood chips everywhere.

"I am invincible!" Peter's voice no longer sounded even remotely human. His body only looked vaguely human now; he appeared as a shadow with bright red eyes and glinting silver teeth.

"Oh shut up." Regina said crossly, flicking silver ropes of magic at him. Peter cackled instead, ducking under one and skirting around the other.

He rushed her, flying too fast for her to get a proper barrier up, and rammed into her full force. Regina's legs buckled, her head snapping back as Peter's entire body slammed into her. She was out probably before she hit the ground.

_Oh. Fuck._

Emma stared at Regina's slack face. "Regina!" she yelled. Not even a twitch from the Evil Queen.

"Of all the times to start emulating my mother!" Emma barked. She struggled to sit up, desperately ignoring the pulling, tugging feeling coming from the general vicinity of her insides.

"I think I'll save you for last." Peter was hovering speculatively above Regina. "I think I'll need a light snack before I start in on the main course-"

And the idea. The idea of Peter Pan eating her sons adoptive mother in front of her while she's too weak to do anything about it. The rage, the absolute hatred that spawns from her...

It's unreal.

It's magic.

Whatever burning there is at Emma's center, it leaps out in a wave and slams into Peter. He falls to the ground so suddenly, it's like he was plucked from the air by large hands. Immediately, the smell of charred refuse starts up. The shadow's squeals of pain reach unregistered decibels that make Emma want to clap her hands to her ears. She staggers to her feet, and looks down on a writhing, pathetic little figure.

"You fuck with my son." Emma said, planting her boot squarely on Peter's (approximate) chest. She's still radiating magic or whatever, because Peter's howls just get more intense, and her boot doesn't pass right through him. She presses down and she's pleases to hear something like ribs snapping. Or whatever this little fucker has to support his chest cavity.

"You fuck with Regina." She kicks him viciously in the side and then steps, with purpose, on his throat. She's not sure if he's a being that needs air, but the way he claws at her foot seems promising.

"You fuck with _me._" Emma crushes his throat at the same instant her magic fluctuates. For a moment, all Emma can see is white and feel pain. She feels like she's being burned out, scoured by fire from inside out. It's pure magic; so pure, in fact, that it rejects her impure mortal coil just a little. Emma imagines that, perhaps, if she was a little less of a good person, she'd be dead.

As it is, when she can see again, there is nothing left of Peter Pan but ash.


End file.
